Welcome to Gaia! ::

~Post 2: INDEX~

~Post 4: PROFILES~

Ok these these are necessary because I'm giving the option of having up to 2 fighters at once. They can't be two element users though, sorry. But you still have the option of being a ninja if that helps. Per example, I'll be a water elemental and a super hero! Others can just be an elemental or even some other kind of person. Just don't make someone in a mech suit or involved with high-tech please.

This profile is not the mandated one. If the following information is clear enough in any other profile you've done, that will work just fine.







Username: SuperCock

Character Name: Siber

Character Traits: Siber was born from a warrior bloodline, and was the most skilled warrior in hand to hand combat in his clan, as well as a brilliant tactician. He is constantly thinking about the situation at hand, and planning his next moves. Noble and proud, honorable and loyal, he lives by a warrior code, and puts the needs of the many before the needs of himself. He speaks usually only when he has something vital to say, otherwise he keeps his thoughts to himself. Siber has extensive control of the Earth Element, using the environment beneath him to aid in battle.

Appearance: Male. 5'8". 145lbs. He is always in the ceremonial battle gear of his clan, and the jackal-faced Mask of Disgrace.

Likes/Dislikes: Siber likes peace and quiet, and is facinated with the Elements and philosophy. He dislikes being away from his homeland, and disrespect- Be it to Nature, to another. He is enraged by blasphemy or sacrilege to his belief in Nature and Ancestral Spirits, and is set in stone in his ways of life.

History: Decendant of a long line of "tribal" elementalists in remote regions, bread as a warrior for his clan, he was exiled when he turned his powers on his kin- his brother, slaying him. He was shamed, humilated as he was forced to wear the Mask of Disgrace as he was banished from his clan. The Mask depicts a jackal, linked always with treachery and deciet, and is the ultimate shame for a noble warrior, to be labled as such. Facing penalty of death should he enter territorial lands of his tribe, Siber lives alone as a wanderer without a purpose, but with plans for revenge on those who cast him out, when no-one knew the truth of what happened. His anger drives him, pushing him to his limits, to train himself and someday make the ones who ruined his life pay, but rarely shows this anger outside of his rigorous training.

Backpack: (Doesn't actually have a backpack, but I'll tell you what he carries) Siber is always clad in his clans ceremonial battle gear, as he is proud of where he came from, regardless of wether he's welcome there or not. His mask, the Mask of Disgrace, he continues to wear is a mockery of his banishment, as he knows the truth behind his past, though none were willing to hear it. His hunting spear doubles as a combat weapon, which he is quite adept with.

Reason for Fighting: The balance of life is threatened by an alien race, who's plan is to raze the Earth and everything inhabiting it- What other reason is needed?



Username: CheewawaMewmi
Character Name: Gemma Morrow
Character Traits: Gemma is a precocious sort of girl, whose real gift lies not in supernatural talents but in her ability to be a hard-working, curious individual. She has a tendency to be a bit awkward, however, she makes up for it with her zeal. Eager to please, Gemma can excel at most tasks that she is given in order to do a job well done and help someone out. Other times, it is for that mere satisfaction that comes from a person's awe at the excellence of a product. The downside to her fuel is that Gemma can also tend to fail to see her own desires in trying to fulfill those of others. Regardless, she is a capable girl who enjoys spending much of her time reading and trying to come up with inventions.

Gemma's capabilities lie in her mind, as opposed to anything regarding magic. That's not to say she is void of all magical capability. Her appetite for knowledge has left her with a vast repetoire of potions, spells, and other such useful knick-knacks. Not only that, Gemma is also on her way to becoming a mini-Archimedes or Da Vinci. Her ingenuity has proved her useful as an inventor and problem solver. As stated before, she's a precocious, little scamp. Now, if only she could find a way to say things without stammering over her words about fifteen times...
Appearance: If there's anything that is absolutely noticeable about Gemma, it's her mane of hair. The auburn mess atop her head is...well, just that. It's a mess. The parts that actually stay down are of about shoulder-length, but the rest of the curls and waves and wisps just sort of go wherever they want. To add on to it, the girl's round, baby face is peppered with freckles. She hates it, though the relatives tend to comment on how they happen to very charming, but most fifteen-year olds hate how they look. With her slight frame and pale skin, it's really quite easy to peg Gemma as, well, the kind person that she actually is. Sort of nerdy, especially when she dons those glasses (which, due to self-consciousness, is only in situations of dire need). Besides, why would she want to wear glasses when they would only hide her peculiar gray eyes? Rather than that, she'd prefer to wear boots, as they help conceal her lack of height, which ends at what is really quite the adorable five feet.
Likes/Dislikes: Gemma likes books, philosophy, and pleasing others. Gemma does not like to disappoint, but really hates snakes more than that.
History: Gemma has two parents who love her very much. Her father is a blacksmith, and her mother is a seamstress. I'm too lazy to write more right now, so let me just tell you that her parents love her very much, and that Gemma has led a good life, despite being socially awkward. People like her anyways, for her usefulness, and she knows that. Right now, she is going through even more awkard times. Adolescence is like that, okay?
Backpack: There is always a book. It may change, depending on what is being read, but Gemma always carries at least one book. Next to that, is her notebook and a bewitched stick that is always able to write, a doo-dad she received from a fledgling sorceress after helping her repair her cauldron. Other than that, I suppose she doesn't carry too much, other than perhaps the occassional tools.
Reason for Fighting: Well, it's helpful for her to fight, right?



User-name: Azure Verite

Character Name: Evander Stephen

Character Traits: Calculating and Caring, Studious and Skillful.
Appearance: Male, 5'9", Seventeen years old.

Likes/Dislikes: Enjoys being around large bodies of water, or stuck in the library. Hates law/rule-breakers and criminal acts.

History: Due to his control over the element of "water", he has been training himself to fight. An incident occurred where he was ambushed by a group of thieves. Even with his powers, another man stepped in to help. He was recruited by this man, who's name was "Euan". He is now a member of a Water-Using group called "The Mobisi."

Backpack: A few vials of healing liquids, and a book on spell-weaving. A blanket as well. His spear is kept nearby or in his hand at all times.

Reason for Fighting: Is an apprentice, learning under his Master, Euan.



Username: ll-Pumpkinman-ll // Water Rouge

Character Name: Euan Tresh

Character Traits: Rough, Cold, Uncaring, Strong

Appearance: Male/6'2"/36 Euan is very buff and wears ragged leather-fashioned clothing. His face is very angled through age and stress. His hair is brown and cut above the eyebrows but medium in the back and sides, covering his ears. He also wears a cape over one shoulder is torn but buckled to his armor. Euan's outfit is generally brown and gray mixed in with faded green.

Likes/Dislikes: Likes fighting but hates having to hold back in anyway. Also hates having to be restrained to one place at any given time but loves striking fear into "the bad guys."

History: Euan Tresh is cousin to the Water Kingdom's current king, Matthew. Denying the offer to help with court and it's army, he left in search of pursuing his own need to fight. Carrying only his ax on his back, Euan left the palace and still remains hidden from his family line.
Soon after his departure, Euan soon discovered he couldn't accomplish his dreams alone, which lead to him founding "The Mobisi," a rogue band of water elementals and fighters. The name comes from the royal family's guardian spirit, Mobius.
Following a year of success, Euan stumbled upon a boy, Evander, which led to him taking on an apprentice. Despite his harsh training, he finds himself appreciating his trainee's efforts more and more.
Now the world is in danger and Euan has answered the call, along with the rest of the Mobisi.

Backpack: A two-handed ax, a letter to his cousin which he hopes will be sent once he dies, and the royal family crest.

Reason for Fighting: Euan remains loyal to his family despite abandoning them and so is fighting on behalf of the Water Kingdom and the entire planet.



Username razz urest_Heart
Character Name: He has a name for every country he has been in but the most used is Benjamin.
Character Traits: Confident, Intelligent, Impulsive, Mischievous, Insane.
Appearance: This man looks to be in his late 20s or early 30s, its hard to tell his real age because he says a different one every time one asks. His dirty blond hair and hazel/green eyes complement his European features.
Likes/Dislikes:Fire, battle, anything he considers "fun"/ few things though he doesn't like "boring" things.
History: It is hard to tell this man's real history because he tells so many lies. What is known is that he is the only fire elemental in the Mobisi, is wanted for murder in several countries and is to be untrusted and watched carefully. He joined up with the Mobisi as a way to get three meals a day and still be able to blow things up.
Backpack: A large amount of gunpowder bags, pistols and a few blades. If he runs out of these he has stashes hidden almost everywhere he has been.
Reason for Fighting: He likes to blow things up.



Username: Slailie
Character Name: Slailie
Character Traits: Slailie tends to be impulsive at times. Over time she has learned patience though and will think things through when she has a clear head, even though shes not always down to earth.



Appearance: Female, 4', 15 ~ Even though shes very short this girl tends to be a package of anger waiting to be opened. At first sight she looks to be just a small child but shes actually just the smaller then average teenager. For the most part she keeps her red hair under a hat and along with that she always seems to keep an odd mask on the side of her head almost all the time.
Likes/Dislikes: Slailie likes soda, pulling pranks, and training. She dislikes being called short or being made fun of.
History: The exact origins of where Slailie comes from aren't well known. But after some time she did join Euan's group, "The Mobisi". Having spent much of her time in the group she has become very skilled using water as her weapon.
Backpack: She always keeps a small bag, given to her by her father, full of several different kinds of throwing needles and knives. She's also known for keeping several cans of orange soda in her backpack as well. Also she keeps a first aid kit with her as well.
Reason for Fighting: The main reasons for Slailie fighting aren't completely known. But helping Euan seems to be the most obvious one she will give.



Character Name: Lawliet

Character Traits: Quiet,Lonely,very emotional

Appearance: (Sex:Male/Height:6"5/Age: 25(aging has stopped)

Likes biggrin rawing,strategizing,making things such as weapons or cloths and armor.

Dislikes:Cruel people

History: A long time ago,his best friend was drowned in the local villages river.He was enraged,and fell into a coma.WHen he awoke,his entire village had been destroyed by the evil monster within him.The village leader purified him of the demon,and bestowed upon him a curse.He was then killed by the village leader.But then,25 years ago,he was reincarnated in a new body,his curse had began to do its work.When he tried to end his life,he simply broke a couple of ribs and his ankle when he jumped off a building and landed on the ground.
He then realized he was to live forever.A sign appeared to him in his sleep and he realized that he was a "Fallen Angel".
Backpack: Weapons,books,forging materials,cloths,different materials to make items with,and small capsules,which he seems to have an infinite amount of.To save room in his backpack,he compresses all his items and then stores them in the capsules,labeling them for future reference.

Reason for Fighting:Wants to how the world that he is not weak.



Username: Icefire Alchemist
Character Name: Skyler Eberlin
Character Traits: Skyler – known as Skye for short – is extremely curious by nature. If she encounters something she’s never seen or heard of before, she’ll immediately want to know anything and everything about it. This particular trait has been very helpful to her, as her thirst for knowledge is what originally sparked her interest in the field of medicine. To date, she has extensive training in medicine, although she can be hesitant in letting people know, worried that they wouldn’t believe her. On top of her medical training, Skyler also knows a bit about psychology, which can help her get into other people’s heads. Of course, that kind of thing works both ways…

Perhaps Skyler’s most mysterious gift is her unique power to get places, and not just by moving extremely quickly; she actually teleports directly to the spot. This talent is extremely helpful while trying to avoid combat, or reach places no one else could get to. However, there are a few downsides. She has to be able to see where she’s going, and the further away it is, the harder it is to get there. Further jumps take up more energy. On top of that, her concentration is extremely important. The less concentrated she is on the “jump”, the more painful it is. It is rare that she’d completely fail to move, but a slip of concentration would make a simple movement feel as if she were trapped underwater. At her age of twenty four, she has complete control over her movement. However, outside influences such as pain and exhaustion can mess with her concentration.

Skyler is not a fighter, but if she needs to defend herself, she is trained. Using her jumps carefully and precisely, she’s crafted a hit-and-dodge battle style. Still, she avoids combat as much as possible. As well, she tries her best to act mysterious, but often fails at it. A kind and gentle soul, she can be hostile towards people who irk her, or people she hasn’t met. She seems to be as distant from people as she can, perhaps because of an incident in the past.

Appearance: Standing calmly at her full height of 5’7”, Skyler looks every bit her twenty four years, and then some. There’s something in her sophisticated manner and even the way she carries herself that suggests an almost regal upbringing, although the brunette firmly denies anything of the sort. Her soft ringlets fall just to her shoulders, framing her face and accentuating her chocolate brown eyes. Most of the time she looks serene, but little things can set off a worried look, making her look more like a child than an adult. Her healthy tan skin suggests she is outside often.

Her clothing is simple, settling for a simple long-sleeved shirt that perhaps was white once, but now has faded to a soft grey. Her black pants tuck into her dark leather boots, and fingerless gloves cover her hands for warmth. Over top she has a very warm looking black jacket with silver buttons, which is almost always done up to the top. It’s not really about the warmth; Skye feels much safer with the clothing bundled around her. A knit black beanie adorns her head, and on it is a pin signifying her medical expertise, even though most people have no clue about its meaning.

Likes/Dislikes: Growing up in a colder country has affected her likes and dislikes quite a bit. Snow is probably her most favourite thing in the entire world, and to ward off that chill, she loves to drink tea. The thrill of expertly tending to people’s wounds is also something she loves, although she hates seeing people in pain. She also hates very warm weather, as well as people who are all bark and no bite. She’ll stand up for people who get bullied, and people who are just plain rude irritate her to no end.

History: Skyler hates talking about her past, and as a result, very little is known about her with the exception of a few close friends. The only thing she will say is that she was born somewhere up north, and during her early teens, she was apprenticed to a doctor working in a town a bit further to the east. Occasionally she’ll mention something about an older brother, but any attempts to press the issue are fruitless. She carries with her the emotional scars of a disaster in the past, but for the most part tries to put that behind her. Only when she is truly exhausted or depressed does she let it break through her carefully composed manner, and even then, it is only a quick glimpse.

Backpack: Her backpack is more like a large messenger bag, and like a good doctor, is stocked with medical supplies. Bandages, painkillers, stethoscopes… that type of thing. As well, she has a few cooking supplies and a blanket. She also carries a book with her, but not for research purposes. Whichever book she has with her is a novel, and Skye allows herself to be caught up in the ocean of words and simply forget where she is for a while.

Reason for Fighting: She has to save herself somehow, right? What better way was there than to join up with a band of rebels?





Username:MC_Original

Character Name: Feres-Sadiik Eldrant

Character Traits: quiet, proud, well mannered, intelligent
Appearance: (male, 6'2 with hazel eyes. Dark skinned with long silver hair that extends to his shoulders broad shoulders. His slender muscles show fully through his soft skin. However his left arm is bandaged in strange fashion that not a peace of skin be seen.

He wears a silky white turtle neck sweater a dark leather jacket. He wears a black leather jacket with some jeans that reach all the way to the heels of his black and white incrested shoes.

age: 28

Likes/Dislikes:He is fascinated by the world and by the things that make the world move. Learning things brings him much joy. However he is very annoyed by people who speak too much of irrelevant things. He does not like too much heat or too much cold.

History: The history of Feres-Sadik Eldrant is one of many trails and tribulations. As a child his mother died working in the mines of the south and his father was never there. He was then taken care by the village he was born in staying at a different persons house from night to night. He made his own way by trying to read to make a better way for himself so he would not feel looked down on. Whilst doing that he also got into many fights which gave him a love for fighting. So he took classes and trained himself in the many martial arts.
By the time he had reached 23 he had felt that he had made a way for him to live and pride took over where his humbleness left off, and began studying of techniques to show off how brilliant he was. One day on a trip through the forest he began thinking of ways to harness the powers of the forest to his advantage and began training daily never ceasing until he had the moves of the forest completely under his control. thus he bean to call himself the master of the forest.

Backpack: Potions, 4 large glaives
Reason for Fighting: To earn as much respect as possible.



Username: .Vindicated.Of.Sanity.
Character Name: Aurent D'Ytremont
Character Traits: An acurate description would involve words such as mischievous, beguiling, clever, ruthless, persistent, selfish, pleasure-seeker, and the like. She's entirely self-centred; the fact that she's in this battle has nothing to do with her 'desire to help others' in any way, shape, or form. Everyone else could be dead already, and it wouldn't matter to her in the least. She keeps physical and emotional distance from others, which caused her selfishness, but also keeps her safe. She's never been the kind of kid who longs to be around others, to be accepted. Autonomous, she says. Independent. She can't find fault with the phrase, "Every man for himself."
Everything she does has a reason that revolves around her own personal gain or pleasure. If there isn't something in it for her, chances are she'll reject the offer. That being said, she's willing to do anything, but 'everything' has a price. Lots of the time, it's for her own personal amusement. She sees people as her toys, things to keep her entertained. An actress of sorts, she's been known to fool people just to see their reactions when she isn't what she promised she was. Most don't realize her physical strength, and it's only after she's flipped them on the ground and is standing over them, sneering, that it becomes clear.
Her knowledge of hand-to-hand combat is quite rudimentary, just enough to get by, but her speed and the way she handles her weapon cover up any shortcomings quite nicely. She specializes in the manipulation of metals, and her practice has made it so that she can melt down metal and re-forge it into something new within seconds. Of course, the instruments she creates are never of the highest quality, her hands being her only tools, but they get the job done, if not a little more... bluntly, than their professionally-created brethren. As a result of her ability, her skin isn't sensitive to heat, so that the molten metal won't hurt her.
It must be said that she enjoys the battle, almost a little too much; the way her eyes dance as she slits open another mound of alien scum, the malicious expression on her face, her small gleeful grin... Indicative of a murderer? A sociopath? Perhaps. The fact that her actions are given a perfectly legal excuse is plenty reason for her to fight for this world.

Appearance: Moving from the top of her head that's five feet and eleven inches off the ground, her caramel-brown hair cascades in soft waves from the top of her head, parted on the right side and held from her eyes with a violet headband. The ends of her ringlets just touch the bottoms of her shoulderblades. Gleeful emerald eyes are framed within her pale face, set above sharp cheekbones and a small nose. Her full, pale rose lips are curled into a smirk most of the time.
Her twenty-one-year-old figure is sleek and lean, too tall and long to be called petite, per say, but her curves aren't very pronounced. Around her neck is a simple deep purple choker, and a simple black camisole underneath a purple silk vest, the back of which is designed into long coattails. Under the edges of the vest she has a black leather belt with steel pyramid studs, to which she's fixed her handgun. A short black a-line skirt reaches halfway to her knees, and under this is a pair of simple black jeans, tucked into dark violet boots. Her arms are bare but for black bracers on her arms. When she's on the move, she wears a black cloak that doubles as a blanket, but it is usually too cumbersome for battle.

Likes/Dislikes: To be blunt, people piss her off. People in general. No matter how pure their intent is, no matter how few words they speak, she will find something in them to hate, even if there's no reason for this at all. Animals are also seen as nuisances and typically she wouldn't hesitate to kick the puppy to the other side of the street if it were persistently annoying. She doesn't like a lot of noise, either.
She loves the weight of her weapon in her hands, the swiftness with which it slices through the air [and other things], the feel of putting all of her energy into the attack and the rewarding impact. Fighting is a great pleasure of hers. Her most favourite feeling in the world is adrenaline pumping through her veins, the feeling of almost getting caught, of taking almost suicidal risks. Committing crimes, too. She doesn't take a lot of time to focus on the small details, so things like beautiful sceneries, the weather, or relaxing moments and such are lost on her.

History: The D'Ytremont family was immensely powerful. The empire had been passed down through at least eight generations, their wealth doing nothing but grow, even despite all the extravagant, on-a-whim expenses that were commonplace in Aurent's home life. Aurent needn't even so much as ask and she had everything she could ever want, and then some. And despite her parents never being around, it didn't seem to bother her in the least. She had distanced herself from her siblings, and while they were crying out for attention, she was happy in her own little world. She had considered that maybe her mind didn't work the same way as theirs. She didn't feel the constant need to be around people like they did. She didn't desire human relationships. She felt nothing for these people around her.
And she grew in her isolation, perfectly content, in the meantime developing her means of manipulating people. As a teenager, she could get out of any trouble she could get herself into- which was never anything small or simple, Aurent wouldn't allow that- with just a few smooth lies and a sweet smile. Anything she wanted was hers, available so simply, it seemed. With no consequences. The rush of her ever-growing crime sprees was exhilarating. The adrenaline made her head spin.
She severed her ties with her family as cleanly as she had created them. She left without so much as a parting word, a look back, a note, nothing. Unnecessary bonds, she thought. Keeping her from her full potential. Finally free of her bloodline, she did as she pleased. When the aliens invaded, an inexplicable force drew her to the combat. The war would keep her entertained for a while.

Backpack: While she finds backpacks a real burden and not her style at all, her nondescript naginata is always within reach, a small handgun she keeps tucked in her belt for when things get too close for comfort [with no supplementary ammunition; she doesn't like how fast a gun brings death to her opponent]. Also, a small drawstring silk pouch is tucked into her pocket; inside are hundreds of tiny chunks of metal.
Reason for Fighting: Government-sanctioned murder? Say no more.



Username: mikiela
Character Name: Mikael "wildcat"
Character Traits: strong willed, proud, intelligent, sarcastic, fun-loving
Appearance: about 4'11", 19 years old, female, long brunette hair braided with spikes, spectacles, leather armor.
Likes/Dislikes: slides, books, cleaning swords, food/ill-kempt people, lack of food, her hair being down
History: She was born into the slums of the fire nation. After her fifth year, her father deserted her mother, and she was forced to learn how to pick pockets and steal. Once, she made the mistake of picking a swordsman's pockets. She cussed at him and fought him "like a wildcat" he said. He was impressed by her, he taught her how to use a sword and survive without stealing. half a year later, he left, and she was alone. She traveled around, eating, fighting off bandits and claiming rewards at the provost's.
Backpack: travel food, sword cleaning instruments, sword, water skin, spare spectacles.
Reason for Fighting: ...if the world is gone, the food will be gone as well.

~Post 6: NOTIFICATIONS~
arrow You can make 2 characters/profiles for this roleplay.
arrow The alien's weakness is magic. Your character does not need to use magic.
arrow You can be any element you want. The system of the guild doesn't apply to you if you don't want it to.
arrow Please ask me about any technology your character might use!

Lately, none of the stars seemed to shine as bright as they used to. Gemma sighed as she lowered her rudimentary telescope, the brass gleaming brighter than her - and everyone else's - spirits with the recent arrival of the Rikti. All the stars ever seemed to signify anymore were beacons and warnings of danger. The great celestial bodies of the Greeks no longer served as stories of myths but as strongholds for those who sought to eradicate human thought entirely.

Gemma ran inside from the balcony and flopped down on a pile of pillows. She tossed. She groaned. Why Earth? Of all the other planets - some of which must have life, as evidenced by the attack - why Earth? Her eyes flickered back to the sky where the clouds had shielded the pinpricks of light, the needles laced with the poison of beautiful deceit.

"I need your help, Gemma," said a gruff voice from the doorway. Father. The girl's face turned to peer at the sillhouette.

"There have been a lot of orders lately. Do you remember how to fashion hilts? You're a smart girl. I'm sure you do," he said wearily. Since the attacks began, the demand for weapons had jumped acutely, putting a strain on not only David Morrow, but all of the blacksmiths in the guild.

Like a good little girl, Gemma replied, "Of course, Father. I think I might be able to make a better, faster alloy for the metal, too."

The large, hairy hand was about to ruffle the large, autumn-colored mess of hair when another voice, womanly voice called up, "See if she can mix a better, faster window washer, too. Those things don't clean themselves."

Gemma and her father looked at each other and laughed. "Yes, Mother!" she called down. Father finished the action he had started earlier before taking his leave. Alone again, the little tinker began to sit and contemplate the situa - What was that racket outside? A tap dance of explosions had begun drumming outside on the streets. Gemma's small body immediately sat erect. The cacophony of bursts and the cry of otherworldly beasts shook inside her bones. In response, she burst out of the plush pile, and dashed to the balcony's edge, stopped only by the railing.

Outside, smoke was rising from the clearing in the woods. How strange to hear carnage coming from one's childhood meadow. Several of the townspeople had already gathered outside, shouting loudly in the confusion. Mother and Father had joined the congregation in the square. Everyone was looking at each other, searching for answers.

Gemma, on the other hand, was looking out, and her calculating eye found a clue. A dark speck passed from the field to where the "rebels" were camped. They were not called rebels by the town for their actions against the town or any of their own people, but for their dissent towards the Rikti's regime of fear. Something was happening.

The small body climbed down from the second-story awning, a feat not so difficult for the lithe that is encapsulated in the youth. Upon reaching a brown patch of Earth, Gemma sprang towards where the clearing lay and ignored her parents calls; for the map embedded in her head from years of running through its once lush grass. As she neared it, thoughts raced through her head. What if the speck that escaped was a Rikti? What if she found herself in the middle of an ambush? She was not a fighter in the least. Sure, maybe she could whip up a spell or two, if she really concentrated, but her talent lied in the memorization of spells as opposed to the execution.

But now she was here, in the clearing, and the white, powdery air destroyed any hope of vision. From within, Gemma could hear the terrible, bestial cries of the Rikti, and her soul seemed to freeze in terror when a hand reached out and pulled her through the forest to where a group of people stood. Dumbstruck, Gemma could not even thank the stranger, and processed only the mob and the soapbox - the adrenaline.

The rebels.

In the center of the crowd stood a presence, his voice booming outward, his call reaching Gemma's ears. "They're here! Now...are you ready to fight?" A battle cry rose like a wave from the crowd. Gemma was entranced, barely noticing that the bodies had slowly been pushing her towards the front until she stood face to face with the presence who had initiated the riot.

"Yeah! We're gonna fight! Take down 'em Rikti bastards!" high-fived two rebels behind her. With her sheltered life dissolving by the mere ticking of the moment, Gemma stared at them, at the presence wide-eyed wonder and horror. She would fight! She would not! Gemma was by no means a fighter, and was far too timid for any such activity. Yet, despite this fact, she could not quell the raging in her heart.

"S-s-sir! Sir!" Gemma began, stammering over the monosyllabic address. "Sir! I, um...h-how. I can be the, ah, the Archimedes to y-your...to your, ahm...to your Syracuse! I can be the Archimedes to your Syracuse!" Her small fists were balled in excitement, and her face looked up at the man with those big, gray eyes that radiated nothing but innocence and the tenacity of the young. When the moment had passed and the words had been said, Gemma's hands untensed, and she realized that in her tight, little grasp were the folds of the presence's clothing.

[~Water~ dammit...WATER!]

(( ~Water~ Rules! ))
Slailie stepped up next to Eaun after his "encouragement".

"Well.. That's one way to put it."

She pulled two knives out of her bag, and looked up at Eaun.

"Got it! And... Thats only just in case right? No definite, that we need him.. right?"

Slailie knew that if worst came to worst, they would ether be killed... or have to run away. Which would be worse though. She was sure running way would be for Eaun but then again she didn't know him all that well. Slailie then stuffed her two knives into the sides of her tied up boots and slung her backpack back onto her back.

"Ready!"